She didn’t know if she really wanted to see him or not. She might not go through with it. She was scared but she was also curious. She just wasn’t sure in what measure. There were things about her that she didn’t see in Jeremy, her mother or Grammy. She wondered if she’d see any similarities between herself and him, and if she did, would it mean she was a bad person? Jeremy said there was nothing good in her dad, and although her mother had never said anything like that, she had never mentioned anything good about him either. What if we’re the same? She couldn’t remember his voice. I wonder what he sounds like? What if I love him all over again? What if I think he’s the greatest thing ever? What happens then? Will he hurt me like he hurt Jeremy? And what about Jeremy? She thought about Jeremy for a long time and what he’d say. He’d hate this. So you shouldn’t have fucked off, Jeremy. He’d tell her she had no business being around her da. So come on home if you care so much. She felt like bursting into tears, running a marathon, jumping the Great Wall of China, flying to the moon and curling into a ball, hiding in the darkest, deepest hole and burrowing to the centre of the earth all at once. She wanted to shout and, at the same time, be very, very quiet. She wanted to be still and jump up and down.

It was all too much so she walked around her room in circles, bit her nails down to the quick, and when her thumb refused to stop bleeding, she finally let go and cried till her jaw ached, her eyes burned and her head throbbed.

Enough, Valerie.

When she heard her grammy going to the toilet, she left her room and called, ‘Are ya all right, Grammy?’

‘Ah, I’m grand, Jeremy love,’ Bridie said, from the bathroom.

Valerie leaned on the door, and when it became obvious that Bridie was in there for the long haul, she joined her mother in her grandmother’s room. Valerie helped pick out Grammy’s outfit, and Maisie offered to show her how to do her hair just the way she liked it.

Bridie was cooperative while they helped her dress and it was almost like the good old days before her mind had begun to erode. Now she was sitting on the chair in front of her dresser mirror, looking at herself. ‘I like this white blouse,’ she said to Valerie.

‘That’s why I picked it.’ Valerie pulled a pale pink cardigan from its hanger in the wardrobe and threaded her grandmother’s arms into it. Then Maisie blow-dried Grammy’s hair, and instructed Valerie on how to put up a bun.